The Variables in the Equation
by paramorefreak24
Summary: "She got the call on that early Monday morning at precisely 2:36 AM. She doesn't think she'll ever forget that exact moment in time." - An alternate ending to the series finale.


**A/N: Hello hello! So how was that series finale? I know we all missed our Cuddles (sobs), but I'm here to fix that little problem with this little fic. Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

**DISCLAIMER: Roses are red. Violets are blue. I don't own House. Sad face.**

* * *

She got the call on that early Monday morning at precisely 2:36 AM. She doesn't think she'll ever forget that exact moment in time. That complete 60 seconds of complete chaos going through her mind as Wilson explained the building and the fire and the suicide. It actually took her a few moments to finally comprehend what truly happened through her still sleepy haze and Wilson's utterly shaken voice.

"Cuddy… are you still there?" Wilson's voice interrupted her reverie.

"Yeah. Yes. Sorry."

"I'm going to try to get a funeral set for Friday. You don't have to come if you don't want to, I perfectly understand. I just thought you'd want to know is all-"

"No, Wilson, it's fine. I'll see if I can come up or not, it's just been so sudden, and I don't know if it would be appropriate. He probably wouldn't even want me there anyways."

"Don't be ridiculous, Cuddy. Of course he would want you there. Just think about it. I'll let you know more details as they come along," Wilson stated as Cuddy sighed a tad frustratingly in the receiver.

"Thank you, Wilson. Look, you should get some rest. You've had a rough night."

Wilson gave his thanks and then hung up the phone, leaving Cuddy on the line. She listened back to the dial tone as the words finally sunk in. Gregory House was dead. Dead. She could imagine a drug overdose or a leg problem, but a building fire? She never imagined such a thing taking the life of one of the greatest doctors mankind has ever known.

She hung up the phone and leaned back into her pillows as her mind continued to swirl around the fact that he was gone. She always wondered what life would be like if he were still in her life, or she in his. How different it would be. Maybe if she was there, then the whole thing would never have happened and he would still be alive.

She cursed herself and reminded herself that she was better off without him. She had a new life with a new job, a new house, new friends. And she almost thought she'd be able to completely move on from him, but he still managed to prove her wrong. She had quite a large house for just her and Rachel, but she was hoping that someone would come along to help fill the empty spaces in her home. No matter how many dates she went on, no matter how handsome the man would be, not a single one would spark her interest. None would ever make her stomach do those firecracker dances. None would ever make her so frustrated but intrigued at the same time. None of them were him. That was the only explanation. Despite everything that happened between them, every single horrible, completely screwed up thing, she couldn't seem to shake off those last bits and pieces of him that had latched onto her heart.

She packed her bags the following day, letting Rachel stay at her new nanny for the next couple days, and flew out to New Jersey, not knowing what to expect or how to act. In her head, she knew she was going to regret going back, but her heart told another story. As the plane touched down in New Jersey, her stomach was doing back flips, her brain going completely haywire. And all because of the death of a man she thought she knew.

* * *

She didn't expect the ceremony to be that small. In fact, she had thought that he would have wanted a big funeral to show everyone how great he was even in the afterlife. But she preferred a small ceremony. She didn't want a lot of people trying to comfort her and whatnot.

But as she tried to make her way to Wilson, she was bombarded with hugs and comforting words from Cameron, Chase, Masters, and the like. A somewhat healthy looking Thirteen gave her a comforting hug while a solemn Foreman gave her but an acknowledging handshake. She finally reached Wilson, and after their exchanging of reassuring hugs, Wilson led her into the chair next to his with his hand on the small of her back. Wilson let out a small, what seemed like frustrating sigh as he took his place next to her, but she was looking at the black casket in intrigue.

"What do you think was going through that head of his? That made him stay in that building?" She asked Wilson softly as the others still murmured around them.

"Lisa… don't do this to yourself. Please."

"I've always been wondering, my entire life, on what went on in that brain. I've always wondered where he could come up with the most bizarre things that ended up being true and could prove his point."

"That's just House for you."

"I guess."

"Thank you for coming, Cuddy. I… I really appreciate it even though this must be horrible for you too."

"It's fine, Wilson. I promise. We'll get through it somehow," she said as she gave Wilson a warm smile and gave his hand a small squeeze in reassurance. Wilson gave her a small smile back as everyone around them took their seats and the service finally began.

Everyone in the room had something to share about Gregory House, whether it good or bad. Most just told stories of how he taunted them mercilessly, which everyone had a good chuckle about. After Wilson sat back down after ranting about House's selfish antics, it was her turn to speak.

As she walked up to the podium, she noticed all eyes were on her. She stood in silence for a moment as she didn't think talking about a man she's known for over twenty years could be that hard. But for Gregory House it was. She finally drew her breath and began to speak.

"Gregory House… was a complex man. In more elaborate terms, he was a doctor. He liked to fix things. He liked to put the pieces together until he figured them out. He was a problem solver. If he couldn't do something, it would nag in the back of his mind until he found a solution, a cure. He was always trying to prove himself right. In fact, his worst fear was being proven wrong. He needed to see every variable in the equation to find every possible solution," Her hands shook ever so slightly as she gripped the podium and looked at the small crowd of people before her. "And despite the taunting, and the name-calling, and the complete asshole-ish things he did to people, despite the torture he put on some of his patients, despite all the Vicodin popping, despite all of that, Gregory House was-"

And all of a sudden, a ringtone started playing, interrupting her and her words, snapping everyone out of their pensive reveries.

"Come on, people, this is a funeral," She said with a frustrated sigh as the annoying ringtone still played, and no one picked up the phone. It wasn't until a few moments later when Wilson went through his pockets to see that the buzzing phone belonged to him. She gave him her old evil stare that used to be reserved just for House, but when she saw the complete surprise and panic in his eyes when he looked up from the phone, she was surprised as well. Wilson motioned for her to step to the back, and she backed away from the podium quickly to follow him.

"Wilson, what's wrong?" She asked as he showed her the text message that bluntly stated 'SHUT UP YOU IDIOTS.'

"Just between you and me, I don't think House is the one inside that casket," Wilson said quietly as she gave him a questioning look. "I'm going back to his apartment to see if anything's changed there."

"No, don't," She said as Wilson meant to walk away.

"What?"

"Don't go. I'll do it. I mean I'll go."

"Are you sure? I mean you weren't very fond of coming to his funeral for God's sake."

"James… I'll be fine. You just stay here and tell everyone not to worry. Just say there was something wrong with Rachel and I had to leave. I'll go to his apartment." Wilson hesitated for a moment until she gave him a demanding glare.

"Fine. Just… make sure everything is alright."

"I promise."

* * *

It only took her seven minutes to get to his apartment, and she didn't even have to speed through any red lights. She exited the car on the opposite side of the street and couldn't believe her eyes as she slowly began to walk towards his building's door, only to find him sitting on the steps.

"You know, I was kind of expecting another woman to drop by, but I guess this will have to do."

"You fake your death, and you're already expecting a hooker?"

"No. Wilson," He said as he stood up from his spot, limping towards her with a soft look on his face. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I moved. You know, since you kind of ran your car into my living room."

"Yeah, I remember it quite fondly." House was now standing about a foot away from where she stood. A moment of silence was shared between them as she studied his face for the first time in over a year. He looked almost young again, with that familiar twinkle in his eyes like he's solved an impossible equation with only seconds left to spare. She hates to admit that she's missed seeing that.

"Why'd you fake your death, House? Of all the most ignorant, moronic things you've done, I think this tops them all."

"That's why I wanted Jimmy here because this whole stunt was done for him. But I'm stuck with you. And Patty and Selma. Who look great by the way," House added as she closed her eyes in order to keep that small feeling of utter frustration inside her.

"How are you even alive right now? Wilson talked about a huge collapse and an explosion…"

"I snuck out the back door. Crazy stuff, huh?"

"Then why are you just completely throwing your life away? What's that going to do for you? How can you live your life with no identity, no job, no anything?" She asked as she threw her hands up in pure frustration.

"That's the point. I don't have anything. The only thing I have now is Wilson. He's the only one that hasn't left. Not yet, anyway. He's the only thing in my life worth doing anything for anymore," House said so quietly and gruffly she could barely hear him when he said it. She bit her lip as she took in the truth in his words. Wilson was the only one there for him. He was the only one who never had left him completely. Everyone else important walked out in his life.

Including her.

"House…"

"I still think about that night. I've gone through every possible thing I could have done instead of taking that goddamn Vicodin. And in every outcome, you're still there. You're still here."

"House, please…"

"I just wanted you to understand that losing you would have been too much pain to handle. I needed to numb it. I needed to subdue it. The mere thought of you dying…" At this moment, House placed a rough hand on the side of her cheek. She grabbed his wrist, but neither of them let go.

"Don't think that I don't think about that night either. Because I do. It replays in my head over and over and over again and… I don't think there could be another outcome."

House took the hand on her cheek, placed it on the back of her neck, pulled her in, and kissed her fully on the mouth. She closed her eyes and ran her hand down his jawline, soaking in the stubble and the scent of his cologne. Their breathing became so steady and so in rhythm that it molded into one. His lips tasted of what she remembered – fiery, rough, tainted of rebellion. Finally they broke apart, their foreheads touching, and their breathing heavy but slow.

"There's not another outcome?" he asked her quietly into her ear.

"… I don't think so, House. I have a new life now with new friends and a new job, and… some variables don't just add to the equation," she whispered back to him.

"So where does that leave us?"

"My flight is tomorrow morning. I don't think I'm planning on coming back for a long time."

"I understand."

At this point, they were completely broken apart, his ocean blue eyes staring deep into her crystal grays.

"I should probably go tell Wilson that you're here and not.. dead."

"Yeah. You probably should,m" House said as she turned her back to him to walk back to her car. "And Cuddy?" She turned back towards him.

"Yeah?"

"If in about five months, you get a phone call from me… will you please answer it? It will be the only phone call I'll ever make to you for the rest of your life, just please… will you answer that one?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

House nodded in thanks as she walked to her car and got inside. She started up her car while looking at him standing there with his hands in his pockets staring back at her. She drew her breath as she took in what might be the very last sight of him she'll see.

"Goodbye, House."

"Goodbye, Cuddy."

She started to drive away slowly, and as she looked back at him through her side mirror, she swore she could have seen the smallest look of content on his face.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it! Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


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